


Onward

by TextualDeviance



Series: The Raven and the Dove [52]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TextualDeviance/pseuds/TextualDeviance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ragnar realizes his marriage is failing, and that will put a spotlight on his relationship with Athelstan. He comes up with a plan to distract from the rumors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Onward

**Author's Note:**

> Set during 3x05

As his wife stood before him, her thin shift barely hiding the body beneath it, he knew he should have been aroused. Yet nothing in him stirred save a wave of revulsion. In the next room, the children all slept soundly—Ivar among them, he noted—but he silently wished one would wake up and demand attention, so he could be spared having to decide what to do with her. Not that she seemed terribly excited herself, he noted. As she attempted to seduce him, he sensed neither love nor lust in her actions, and wondered what she was trying to achieve. Soothing his anger, perhaps? That wasn’t going to happen, however.

He had never himself been terribly fond of Siggy, but the woman had had a calming and stabilizing influence on his brother. Alone, Rollo tended to be feral and drunken. With her, his beastlike nature was at least a little less likely to come out in harmful ways. With her gone, now it was anyone’s guess as to what might happen. That his eldest had come to blows with his uncle, trying to keep him from greater harm in a bigger brawl, said that worse behavior was likely.

He scanned Aslaug’s body. It was near certain that she had left the boys in Siggy’s care in order to do something far less benign than taking a bath or shopping the market stalls. She had undoubtedly taken up with another man, one whose attention had seemed to her far more important than the care of her children. Ragnar imagined, for a moment, the other man touching her, and he found that it didn’t really disturb him, however. It wasn’t like he had room to judge on infidelity, of course. His relationship with Athelstan wasn’t that, but his ill-advised dalliance with the volatile Mercian queen was. A certain amount of possesive indignance at Aslaug's straying did come up, but it was negligible compared to his fury that she had clearly abandoned the children to pursue this other man, whoever he was. He found himself angry at the man not for tempting his wife carnally, but for holding sway over the rest of her judgment, and wondered what charm or power he'd had to do so.

Whatever the case, his mood tonight was nowhere near positively disposed toward his wife. With a last look of disgust, he strode away, as in desperation she tried to turn the accusations of infidelity toward him.

To his joy, Athelstan was where Ragnar hoped he would be: In his room, wearily undressing for bed.

“Ragnar?” He frowned in confusion at the unexpected visitor.

In answer, Ragnar swept him up in a tight embrace, pressing upon him the passionate kiss his wife had been hoping to elicit for herself.  Breaking for a gasp of air, he muttered darkly, “I need you.”

Enveloped in Athelstan’s warmth and love, Ragnar felt his grief, anger and frustration melt away. The world could have been deep in the throes of Ragnarok outside the door and he would neither have known nor cared. Everything was always right and well when they were entwined like this.

They fell asleep right after, both exhausted in body and spirit. A few hours later, Ragnar felt Athelstan rise to relieve himself, and stirred himself.

“Did I wake you?” Athelstan said as he returned. “I apologize.”

Ragnar shrugged. “It is no matter.” Pulling Athelstan’s chilly body toward him, he pressed kisses all across his cheeks and neck. “It feels good to be able to be alone again, without much worry about whether we will be discovered.”

Athelstan nodded, sighing happily. “I wish we did not have to worry about that at all, though.”

Ragnar grumbled softly. “I think many people have already begun to wonder at why we are so close. I know the people we have told have been keeping the secret, but rumors are out there anyway. I expect they will grow soon.”

Athelstan frowned. “Why?”

“Because my marriage is indeed failing. After our discussion about it, I had wondered whether Aslaug and I might not be able to repair the rift between us, but this thing with Siggy and the boys . . ." He made a noise of disgust. "I think I stopped loving her years ago, but I can no longer even muster kind feelings for Aslaug.”

He felt Athelstan’s body tense. “Oh,” was all his beloved said.

“Remember,” he said, trying to soothe Athelstan’s worry with gentle caresses, “this will not affect us. What we have goes beyond her—beyond whether I am married at all.” He stroked Athelstan’s tangled hair. “I expect it may soon become apparent that she and I are estranged. If that happens, people will wonder why I do not take up with another woman.”

“Will you divorce her, then, or are you still planning to remain with her while the boys are young?”

Ragnar shook his head. “I don't intend to divorce her yet. I am going to give her a chance to redeem herself before that happens. She may divorce me on her own—I do not know. For now, I must keep her in my home if I am to hope to keep my children close to me. I lost Bjorn when Lagertha left. I cannot risk losing the others if I send their mother away.”

“Of course. What should we do to keep the rumors at bay, though?”

Ragnar clenched his jaw. “I do not know. I am tempted to simply let them run. I have grown weary of trying to pretend that you are not as important to me as you truly are.” He pulled Athelstan closer.

They went quiet for some time, and Ragnar wondered if Athelstan had fallen asleep again. After a while, however, he spoke again, his light, high voice piercing the darkness. “What about raiding?”

“Raiding?” Ragnar pulled back, trying to see Athelstan’s expression as best he could. “What do you mean?”

Athelstan propped himself up on an arm. “What do you plan to do next summer? We have established the settlement in England; there is no need to go back. Yet your people—“

“Our people,” Ragnar interrupted.

“Our people, yes.” Athelstan laughed lightly. “They will be restless. They will want to raid again. What if we were to give them something to do—to keep themselves occupied instead of wondering what our relationship is about?”

“That sounds like a useful plan. Yet I am not sure where we could raid that would do that. Unless . . .” His mind began whirling.

“Unless what?” Athelstan said.

“What about Paris?”

“Paris!” Athelstan laughed. “You remember what I said about its walls, yes? That would be a very difficult city to conquer.”

“It may be. I think that we should prepare to go there, at least. Raiding the city itself may not be possible, but there is likely much wealth to be found in the surrounding towns in Frankia. It could be enough for us to raid there, and in doing so we might be able to do the same with the Frankish leader that we did with King Ecbert.”

“Convince him to give us land there? For another settlement?”

Ragnar nodded. “They make wine there, yes? Surely they must have fertile land, just as England does. Establishing a settlement somewhere else—somewhere south—would be a great way to continue to explore further.”

Athelstan hummed in thought. “I am not sure they would do that, I fear. Frankia is a very Christian place, without nearly the same recent history of pagans as England and its surrounding territory. England has been Christian for only a few hundred years. Frankia has been so much longer than that. If the current emperor—I do not know his name—is anything like Charlemagne, they might be even more hostile than the English to having pagans on their land. Remember also that Frankia is an empire. It has considerable territory and undoubtedly a considerable army to defend it.”

“Eh, perhaps they wouldn't give us land," Ragnar acknowledged. “Yet if we are careful about how we raid, at the very least, they might pay us to leave, and that would give our people something about which to be happy and content for a while. And if we do manage to be successful, people would give you a great deal of credit for it, which would give us more room to be together. People already know I use you as a close advisor. If we successfully explore elsewhere, they will want you to stay by my side to continue to give me information about the wider world that we do not have.”

“That makes sense. It does sound tempting. It would be an enormous undertaking, though. I do not know how to get to Paris from here—or how we could get our ships there. When I traveled there before, I crossed only a narrow body of water just south of Wessex. We were on land again in less than a day, and traveled overland from there. Paris was a considerable way from the water.”

“That does not matter. This river you mentioned—“

“The Seine?”

“Yes. Like all rivers, it must flow from somewhere. If it is not a snowmelt river, coming down from a mountain, it would have to have a mouth somewhere near the sea. You are not the first person to have told me about Frankia. Several years ago, I met a wanderer who mentioned the land, and perhaps he might know more about that river’s source.”

“You are serious about this?”

“I am, yes.” Ragnar now felt giddy down to his toes. “I want to see this Paris. I want to be there—I want us to be there. If the city is half as beautiful as you have said, it would be all the more so to have you return there with me.”

Athelstan smiled and kissed Ragnar’s nose. “I would indeed like to see the city again—with you.”

“Then it is decided. Let us no longer worry about my wife or about what the rest of the people in Kattegat think of you, or of why I keep you in my confidence.” A wild impulse hit him, and he chuckled, a teasing tone coming into his voice. “If this works out, they might well be perfectly content if I took you as an open concubine.”

Athelstan laughed, then feigned offense. “A concubine? Is that what I am to you now?”

“Wait, I did not—“

Athelstan silenced him with a kiss. “I doubt what you say would happen, but I admire your confidence nonetheless. We shall see, after Paris, what may come.”

“We shall. And in the meantime, please do not allow my troubles with Aslaug to bother you. Should she attempt to force me to choose between you, she knows very well she would lose.”

“All right, then.” Suddenly, Athelstan yawned big.

“We should sleep more,” Ragnar murmured, taking Athelstan’s cue. “But tomorrow, we will begin to make our plans to continue to travel onward, like we always dreamed we would. Summer cannot come soon enough.”


End file.
